


Blood Price

by darthvair65



Series: Forces of Nature [3]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Gen, Non-Graphic Violence, Revenge, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthvair65/pseuds/darthvair65
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percy's desire for vengeance against the giants and monsters during the battle against Gaea becomes overwhelming, leaving Annabeth and Nico to try to reign him in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Price

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Applied Theories  
> 2\. *Blood Price*  
> 3.  
> 4\.   
> 5\.   
> 6.  
> 7\.   
> 8.  
> 9\.   
> 10\.   
> 11\. Forces of Nature  
> Epilogue

Percy couldn’t remember much of what happened after he handed Nico off to one of Apollo’s kids at their makeshift infirmary; he remembered how warm Nico had felt, with his solid weight pressed against Percy’s side, and he remembered leaving – but after that it was mostly fuzzy and vague. He was sure he’d stepped back into the war zone, and he was about twenty percent sure he’d met one of the twelve before everything went black.

Clarisse of all people had the unfortunate task of relaying what had happened after everything quieted down and Gaea was put back to sleep again.

He’d been gone perhaps twenty minutes when Frank burst into the tent with Percy slung over his shoulders, bleeding heavily from a spear wound in his stomach. Will and the other healers had assumed that Percy was going to die; the wound was too catastrophic, had torn too many of his internal organs, and he’d lost too much blood to survive more than a few minutes. The healers did what they could, but their other patient had to be removed in the process. Nico had stared at his bleeding form blankly for a matter of seconds before he started to scream (Clarisse’s voice trembled with something that might have been fear as she relayed this part of the story) before the ground started to shake violently. Jason, who’d come to check on Nico, had to drag the son of Hades out before he opened up a chasm beneath their feet.

Clarisse said that not long after that the giants and their armies had descended, drawing everyone out of the tent and from hiding. Then, with no explanation, a seemingly whole and unharmed Percy wandered out, advancing straight to the front line wearing a murderous expression.

(Percy did have an explanation, but he didn’t want to discuss it with anyone. He’d lain there, nectar coursing through his veins and keeping his heart beating beyond what it should have, when suddenly the tent grew dark as the shadows gathered in a corner; the whole room became chilly, and tall, thin man with swept-back black hair and cold, manic black eyes slipped from the shadows. He was dressed in black armor, and carried a long, wicked-looking staff and a sword.

“Is this where you wish to die, child?”

Percy remembered forcing his head to move so he could communicate _no_.

“You’ve learned how to manipulate bodily fluids to cause asphyxiation – and you saved my son’s life. You have more mettle than I anticipated, Perseus Jackson. And for that, I shall repay this debt.”

Percy had _felt_ the wound close and all his organs reassemble. The Lord of the Dead disappeared, leaving Percy gasping for breath and lurching into a sitting position.

Then the rage had descended.)

0o0

Everyone – the gods, demigods, monsters, and even the giants – all stared at him as he pushed through the assembled Greco-Roman army towards the front. Most of the campers and legionnaires were covered with monster dust and blood, and their numbers had been visibly cut since the last time Percy had seen them.

Percy had never felt shy about sharing his hatred of the lives they led; half-bloods were so much more likely to die young, brutal deaths at the hands – or fangs, or swords – of immortal monsters, and it seemed bizarre to him that the cycle would never end. There would always be half-bloods growing up running from the monsters of old, dying shrieking for their godly parent’s help – which would not, could not, come. Even the tiniest bit of hope was threatened to be snuffed out by some new threat, some apocalyptic crisis and it just

Would

Never

End.

Percy had lived his life, like all other half-bloods, assuming that the next monster he fought would probably be his last. Living beyond age sixteen seemed like a pipe dream for a while. But he’d seen New Rome, and he’d seen the possibility of another life there. He wanted to know what it would be like to see seventeen – even eighteen, if he could. He wanted to hug Annabeth one more time, to sit down and talk with Nico for more than thirty seconds and without the stress and fear of death hanging over their shoulders, to see his mom again. Percy knew that every other person was thinking the same things: they all wanted to see their friends and family again after this – and some never would.

The thought of having to explain to a friend’s parent why they did not come home set rage and fury boiling in Percy’s stomach. Liquid fire burned in his veins and pushed him forward in quick, purposeful strides, his expression dark and murderous. Greeks and Romans alike practically leapt out of his way, jostling and muttering in horrified tones as they cleared a path for him right to the front. Annabeth gasped his name when he pushed between her and Jason and in front of them to face Polybotes and his army.

(Behind him Nico starts, staring with terrified, disbelieving eyes, and tries to catch up to him before Jason puts his arm out, blocking him. Jason just shakes his head, unsure of what is going on with Percy and how a boy who was supposedly dying is suddenly up and walking around.)

“Son of Poseidon,” Polybotes rumbled. “I-“

“I want payment,” Percy shouted over him, cutting the giant off. Behind him, the demigod army muttered in surprise and alarm.

“Percy,” Annabeth hissed.

“For what, little demigod?”

“For the lives you have stolen,” Percy continued, voice ragged with feeling. “For the blood that has been spilled, for the futures that have been taken from my friends.”

“I owe you nothing,” Polybotes laughed, “other than thanks for the plentiful meals you have given my brothers and sisters.”

It’s almost too easy to start; manipulating Nico’s blood had gotten his mind working, remembering how it felt to choke Akhlys on her own saliva and snot. It really is too easy to reach out in the same way and push the saliva and other bodily fluids down into a group of monsters’ tracheas.

Too easy.

They give strangled screams of rage, while the monsters behind them shriek in terror at his rapidly growing powers. Even Polybotes feels the effects, his face turning a sickening purple. Percy knew the giant wouldn’t die – that was fine. Percy could keep torturing him, just like this. Maybe then he would begin to feel a fraction of the pain he had caused in the crusades against Olympus.

Then he hears Annabeth gasp and call his name. “Percy, stop,” she cried. “That’s enough.”

“It’s not, though,” he shot back. He needed to do this though – did she not understand? How could she not? Annabeth had been through Tartarus with him – why didn’t she understand his need to tear them limb from limb?

Red fog creeped into the edges of Percy’s vision; he thought he saw his father standing off to one side, a look of pride and approval in his wild features.

 _The sea has always been unforgiving_ , he seems to say. _Even the calm surface masks deadly currents and inhabitants. The storms at our command leave destruction in their wake. You have embraced the greater ocean, as you will the deep sea: it is cold, harsh, and demands the lives of those who defy its wrath. While my brother may lord over the dead, we are the harbingers of death, my son._

Power surged through him like glacial water through his veins, and Percy was so caught up in the feeling of euphoria as he choked the life out of the monsters before them that he almost didn’t hear his friends calling his name. Annabeth was staring at him like he was a complete stranger while Piper held her back; she didn’t understand. She should have, but she wouldn’t. He wanted to make them suffer the way he and his friends – his family – had suffered for so long, and nothing would stop him from taking absolute pleasure in their despair. Frank was staring at him with a similar expression on his face as he placed himself between Percy and the others, arms spread wide to deflect anything he might throw at them.

“Percy, you have to stop this.”

Percy faltered as the tone and timbre of those words eased their way past the blockade he’d erected.

“I understand, I do. You have no idea – it feels so good, doesn’t it? To make them pay, make them suffer, and to know that you could do this forever and ever. Right?” Nico said, voice getting closer and clearer as he spoke.

Percy felt himself frown and his stomach flip over. “It feels right,” he answered, but his voice carried his worry.

“But it’ll never be enough,” Nico continued doggedly. “You could kill every single one of these monsters – you could flush them out and strangle them again and again – but when you finished you’d want more. It would never end, Percy.”

“They _deserve_ to die screaming,” Percy snarled, his rage flaring. “I’ll do it for as long as I can.”

“Then you’ll die,” Nico said, and suddenly he was at Percy’s side, staring up at him with a pleading look. “You will die, and you’ll never be at peace. You’ll be one of the damned, Percy – just like all of these monsters. We can fight them, but we need you to help us. We can’t do this without you. _I_ can’t do this without you.”

Percy chanced a glance to his side, only to find Nico just on the edge of his personal space, looking up at him with this expression of total comprehension and worry. He was bleeding from a cut across his cheek, and his eyes were red and puffy like he’d been crying.

“You need to stop,” Nico continued, reaching out slowly and pushing Percy’s arm down. “You’re bleeding,” he said, and Percy could hear the tremor of fear in his voice well enough to know that it was true.

Percy abruptly felt warm, thick liquid sliding down his cheeks and across his lip. He put a finger to his mouth and it came away dripping with blood. What was this? Power surged through him, making his limbs shake, while his father’s voice reverberated in his ear: _destroy – kill them all, wipe them clean from this earth . . ._

“Percy, stop,” Nico’s hand closed around his wrist and gripped tightly, enough that Percy could almost feel the bones in his wrist grind together. “Let go now.”

“No,” Percy growled, trying to twist his hand from Nico’s grip. It should have broken easily; the son of Hades was thin, and he’d always thought his bones looked like they were made from fiberglass – but Nico held fast, and the grip became even more painful, like he was gripping the bones in his forearm so hard they’d crack.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Nico hissed, but darkness was beginning to swirl around him even as he spoke; the darkness was unmistakably hostile, creeping over his skin like a cold flame. Suddenly, as Nico stared him down, he felt a surge of emotion that was not his own sweep him into an inescapable storm.

He saw everything through Nico’s eyes, albeit in brief glimpses; he saw Nico screaming as he was carried into the tent, pale with blood loss and still bleeding heavily, saw him kick and claw at Jason’s arms as the son of Jupiter pulled Nico away before the ground opened up, and watched him turn his fury on to a group of advancing empousa, crushing their skeletons from within their own bodies – then the overwhelming relief and fear on seeing Percy push through the crowd, only to begin demanding blood from the approaching army. Nico’s own anger, potent and clear, began to bleed into his heart and soul, along with a deep-seated dread and this warm, comforting feeling Percy absolutely recognized as something he associated with Annabeth. The sudden rush and tide of emotion paralyzed him, and he staggered under their weight enough for Nico to claim victory; he let go, and dropped to his knees in a heap.

While the monsters gasped for breath Nico stood tall and roared _NOW_ – and their army advanced with murderous intent. Nico stayed with him – Percy only knew because the grip on his wrist never faltered – until he smelled the ocean breeze and a strong arm lifted him to his feet. Poseidon flicked the blood staining his face away and put Riptide back in his hand. For the moment Percy ignored the shattered feeling in his chest; when he turned, Nico was gone . . . and Annabeth was staring at him like he was a monster.


End file.
